Three Cheers for Sweethearts [Frerard AU]

PART III: Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2 – PLANETARY (STOP!)

Although we broke character to laugh countless times – whether out of awkwardness, nervousness, or actual comedic bits – we actually made some progress on the scene. Frank found a suit for me in the costume room and found himself an apron so fancy it almost looked like a dress . Way to cheat out of it, Frank. Not that I blamed him.

Austin had no problem getting a nice poofy dress, and Mikey found a suit similar to mine. We were one of the lucky groups who didn't need props at all; that alone saved us plenty of time to get scene work done.

Mr. Burner loved working with our group above the others. I didn't know the exact reason why, but we weren't complaining; we were probably the most distracted, and he could keep us on task.

On the Thursday before our performance, we were working through line by line, perfecting every last syllable and step. If I were to describe it in one word, it would most likely be 'dull.' Say that line again. Say it again. Say it again. One more time. I lied, one more time. The stop-and-start was maddening, and I was getting impatient.

"Almost perfect!" Mr. Burner shouted at me. "Be more passionate. You're FALLING in LOVE!" I rolled my eyes for the umpteenth time that day and repeated the line, this time with – hopefully – more passion.

"O then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do. They pray—grant thou-"

"PASSION!"

"O THEN, DEAR SAINT-"

"DON'T SCREAM AT ME!"

"O then, DEAR saint, let lips DO what hands DO-"

"Less sarcasm, please!"

Beat. "O then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do. They pray—grant thou, lest faith turn to despair."

"Better, Gerard. Keep going." About time I satisfied this man.

"Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake," said Frank. Needless to say, he was a good actor. Of course his line delivery needed no improvement.

We worked through the dialogue, each line getting similar feedback from Mr. Burner. At last, Austin came into the scene. Austin had insisted he rehearse in costume every day since he got the dress until the performance (and even then, I was almost certain he'd find another occasion to wear it in the future), so when Mr. Burner himself burst into a barking cackle, it wasn't a surprise we had to stifle more laughter. Miraculously, we managed to keep going.

"Madam, your mother craves a word with you."

Frank nodded and walked past Austin off the stage.

"Who is her mother?" I said.

Mr. Burner cut in. "Close, Gerard, it's what. Not who. Again from Austin's entrance?"

We reset. "Madam, your mother craves a word with you."

Frank nodded and walked past Austin off the stage.

"What is her mother?"

"Marry, bachelor, her mother is the lady of the house, and a good lady, and a wise and virtuous. I nurs'd her daughter that you talk'd withal; I tell you, he that can lay hold of her shall have the chinks." He concluded with a womanly chuckle.

"React to this, Gerard!"

"I'm not an actor," I responded, taking a few steps back to where I was before Austin's line. He said it again. I summoned my inner soap opera actor and hoped my acting showed on my face. It felt weird. "Is she a Capulet?"